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By Steve Meineke, on August 23rd, 2010
November 1994
Dear Summer,
Eighteen years ago I stood looking at you—fresh-born—through the big glass window in the hospital nursery, watching the nurses try to count your tiny toes. Minutes old, you were bright-red-screaming-at-the-top-of-your-lungs unbounded life, squirming and kicking in every direction—quite a challenge to those toe-counting nurses. How I wanted to reach through the window, to be closer to you as you celebrated your newfound freedom. From behind the glass, I breathed a promise: I would never stand in the way of your freedom. « Continue reading »
 1 person likes this post.
By Jeff, on July 9th, 2010
I think summer is the by far the best time of the year! Not just because the weather is warm and the days long. I love it because my daughter is home all day long. Now, for some people that may not be exactly a good thing but I really believe it is a matter of perspective. In the grand scheme of things, we have these children for such a short time. I want to enjoy and appreciate every moment. Sometimes that means playing a video game I don’t necessarily want to play. Sometimes it means watching a show I don’t necessarily want to watch. But if watching that show or playing that game gives me a moment where my daughter snuggles up close to me… I’ll take it every time. You see, I know and accept that there will come a day (all too soon) when she will be too old for snuggling and video games with dad. She will be talking on the phone and focused on her social life and that is how it should be I guess. I just don’t want to look back with any regrets… longing for a time when she wanted to be with me but I was too busy.
Summer allows me this time more than ever and that is why it is my favorite time of the year!
What do you think? What are summer breaks like for you? What are some things you do to make summer a wonderful time?
2 people like this post.
By Admin, on May 20th, 2010
A teenage boy had just passed his driving test and inquired of his father as to when they could discuss his use of the car.
His father said he’d make a deal with his son: ‘You bring your grades up from a C to a B average, study your Bible a little, and get your hair cut. Then we’ll talk about the car.’
The boy thought about that for a moment, decided he’d settle for the offer, and they agreed on it.
After about six weeks his father said, ‘Son, you’ve brought your grades up and I’ve observed that you have
been studying your Bible, but I’m disappointed you haven’t had your hair cut.
The boy said, ‘You know, Dad, I’ve been thinking about that, and I’ve noticed in my studies of the Bible that Samson had long hair, John the Baptist had longhair, Moses had long hair…and there’s even strong evidence that Jesus had long hair.’
To this his father replied, ‘Did you also notice they walked everywhere they went?’
1 person likes this post.
By author unknown, on January 25th, 2010
 When I was a kid, my mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work.
On that evening so long ago, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don’t remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that biscuit and eat every bite! « Continue reading »
1 person likes this post.
By Jeff, on August 4th, 2009
Tonight I am up late… remembering. I love the power of memory as it intertwines with emotion to form a temporary reality. In quiet solitude, this gift of memory allows me to sit for awhile with my mother who passed away many years ago. It gives me glimpses into moments I will forever cherish and allows me to relive past experiences that define the meanings of my life. Tonight an open window in my mind has taken me back to a very special place where I learned a new meaning to the word “love”… « Continue reading »
1 person likes this post.
By Jeff, on July 7th, 2009
She is sitting on my lap as we gaze into the night sky. This may be the last year she will be willing to do that. She’s growing up so fast and pretty soon snuggling with Daddy will be embarrassing rather than comforting. She lays her head against my chest and I smile. Above us, cascading explosions of light and color brighten the darkness. I glance down at her wonder filled face. She doesn’t notice me looking at her so I take a moment to drink in her innocent beauty. She is my little girl, my grown up baby. With every flash in the sky, pictures fill my mind of different times when I have looked at this precious face… « Continue reading »
By author unknown, on June 29th, 2009
Being a parent is a life sentence, from the day your child is born until you leave this earth, you will never be free again! You are granted no reprieve when your child leaves home. You will worry about their future as long as you live, no matter how far away they are, physically or emotionally. « Continue reading »
By Taz, on June 21st, 2009
When I was in my twenties, my gaze was always focused on the big things—finding the “perfect” partner, the “to-die-for” job, the “huge” book deal, or getting into the “best” graduate school. Little things didn’t matter much; they were unnecessary distractions that I treated as rounding errors. I either ignored them or focused on what came before or after. Looking back, I can see that how deeply I was affected by films and operas. I was always waiting for the sweeping climax that would bring resolution, on a grand scale, to my life. I was young and eager to fit together the largest pieces of the puzzle of life, foolishly believing that the remaining bits didn’t matter. « Continue reading »
By author unknown, on June 18th, 2009
Children are a blessing sent from God above
For us to care and nurture and most of all to love.
God calls us to be parents and provides us with the tools
And when we feel like giving up, our strength He will renew.
Children are a gift from God that He so freely lends
To make it through the childhood years, on Him we must depend.
He must have a presence, you see it must take three
The parents, child and Christ to be a family.
From childhood days to a child full grown
Their joys and hurts are a parent’s own.
Times of joy and laughter and those times of tears
The times spent raising children are surely the best of years.
There comes that time in life when a child will leave the nest
We must send them off with love and trust God with the rest.
We’ve shared the Word of God, we’ve taught them right from wrong.
Now it’s time to let them go and let them write their song.
The faith instilled, the examples lived, and the lessons taught
All gifts that we have given our child, will never be forgot.
So many paths that they can take, right or wrong remains unknown
But rest assured that in the end, they all lead back to home.
By author unknown, on June 17th, 2009
I ran into a stranger as he passed by,
‘Oh excuse me please’ was my reply.
He said, ‘Please excuse me too;
I wasn’t watching for you.’
We were very polite, this stranger and I.
We went on our way and we said goodbye.
But at home a different story is told,
How we treat our loved ones, young and old.
Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My son stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked him down.
‘Move out of the way,’ I said with a frown.
He walked away, his little heart broken.
I didn’t realize how harshly I’d spoken.
While I lay awake in bed,
God’s still small voice came to me and said,
‘While dealing with a stranger,
common courtesy you use,
but the family you love,
you seem to abuse.
Go and look on the kitchen floor,
You’ll find some flowers there by the door.
Those are the flowers he brought for you.
He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue.
He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise,
you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes.’
By this time, I felt very small,
And now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by his bed;
‘Wake up, little one, wake up,’ I said.
‘Are these the flowers you picked for me?’
He smiled, ‘I found ‘em, out by the tree.
I picked ‘em because they’re pretty like you.
I knew you’d like ‘em, especially the blue.’
I said, ‘Son, I’m very sorry for the way I acted today;
I shouldn’t have yelled at you that way.’
He said, ‘Oh, Mom, that’s okay.
You know I love you anyway.’
I said, ‘Son, I love you too,
and I do like the flowers, especially the blue.’
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